


if you like to do whatever you've been dreaming about

by resurrectdead



Category: Amazingphil - Fandom, Danisnotonfire - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Doggy Style, M/M, OVER THE DESK!!!, Phan AU, Phan Smut, Porn With Plot, Rough Sex, Spanking, Teacher-Student Relationship, machoke me daddy please don't, no there's genuinely no choking because I respect dan's wishes xx, teacher/student au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 04:50:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9419492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/resurrectdead/pseuds/resurrectdead
Summary: They do this, though. Play pretend. Dan is just a student and Phil is just a teacher trainee. They’ve never met outside of school. They’ve never grabbed coffees or snuggled up listening to music. They've never bunched up into the janitorial room with their tongues down each others' throats, Phil's hand down Dan's unzipped pants and his glasses fogging up on the tip of his nose, whispering a messy string of “I love you”s into his neck.Or: the sequel to"if you like to do the things you know that we shouldn't do"that literally nobody asked for. you could maybe possibly read this without having read the first one because I know it's reeeaaally long.





	

**Author's Note:**

> “such a demanding teacher” - actual dan howell to phil 2k16

The leaves on the trees outside the window aren’t bright orange and red anymore, nor are they green and healthy; they’re crumbling, rotting, turning brown and crisp and falling off their branches to the just as melancholic ground. Some sort of symbolism to how Mr. Lester’s time as a teacher trainee at the university is almost at its end, Dan is certain. 

Why else would the world have a reason to slowly die around him?

It’s a friday, and it’s the beginning of november. Mr. Lester stands by the desk at the front of the classroom, smiling brightly and giving out the usual goodbyes and thank-you-for-todays as his classmates pour out of the room for the weekend. (Dan had sort of taken a habit of calling him that in his head sometimes rather than Phil; something strangely sexy about. Something enticing about the forbidden aspect of it all, despite Dan being actually totally legal, Phil being an actual total sweetheart too good for this world and, whatever, he has his needs. It’s the hard life of a pre-adolescent boy with infinite access to kink-friendly porn.) 

Phil doesn’t appear to notice him there at first, or at least he can pretend not to. So Dan sits and watches from his spot in the back, fidgeting with papers, pretending to save documents on his laptop, taking far too long to reach for his bag. Taking far too long to scramble up and leave.

Lost in thought, he suddenly hears the door shut as the last student leaves the room. And then they’re alone. Dan, in band t-shirt with once-black skinny jeans; him, in a checkered shirt and unfairly tight trousers, new black glasses with an inner red rim that Dan had helped him pick out on display on the bridge of his nose. The tension feels thick in the air for a reason he can’t explain.

"Hello, Mr. Howell." Phil becomes the first one to break the silence. He smiles brightly at him across the room, and Dan remembers a thought, the thought how he'd never have to freeze in this classroom again. Philip Michael Lester still successfully melts him to pulp on the floor with just his goddamn smile. "All is well, I suppose?"

"All is well", he echoes in a murmur. He props his elbow on the desk and puts his head in his hands, looks ridiculous but hopefully also a tad bit adorable with his cheek all squished up and sleepy eyes. "Just pondering the meaning of life and the inevitability of death."

Phil snorts a laugh, but only a small one. “Okay?”

Dan quotes from the top of his head. “What is normal for the spider is chaos for the fly.” He looks out the window dreamily. “And if we drop a pen, it can’t change its fate. But gravity isn’t an objective truth. Some people believe in levitation.”

He sees Phil tilt his head from the corner of his eye, so he looks back at him, in time to notice a smile twitching at his lips. But then he shakes his head out of the trance and turns on his heel to walk towards his desk, clears his throat. 

“Fascinating train of thought”, he concludes, nodding. "Bit wayward, I’m afraid. Hard for me to philosophe about. But I'd like to be part of your reality."

He goes to mind his own business, grading shit or whatever it is teachers do, but then notices Dan staring at him. Deadpan.

"What reality?" he says. He drops his hands to his sides. "Reality is whatever we decide to make it out to be for the moment being.”

Phil blinks at him. “I’m losing you.”

“Everything we think we can truly see and things we think we know are really just things that we've been taught to think what they are. It's just language, words we've been socialized into knowing and taught to associate with specific things. And without language, at least we know actions, but who decided what our _body_ language meant? How do we know it’s the same for you as it is for me? How do we even truly know we _exist_?" 

Phil doesn't respond for a moment. Just kind of. Looks at him.

Dan bats his eyelashes at him. Still deadpan. “You're now aware of your own breathing."

Often times, this statement has Phil recoiling, covering his eyes and whining "oh nooo" while Dan laughs evilly because, seriously, it's the worst thing ever and he knows it. This time, though, his facade only falters slightly, bends rather than breaks, and he gets his straight face back on before the smile is fully coaxed out of him. He's thinking about something. And he's wondering how to go about it.

He presses his lips together. “Bit wayward”, he concludes.

Dan grins and raises a shoulder in a yeah-you-know-whatever sort of way.

“Bit wayward”, he agrees.

He can tell Phil wants to smile. He can also tell how badly he wants to reach for him. Sees his fingers moving, arms pinned to the side. Dan can’t help but wonder if he’s bothered by the same thing he is. Does he _care_?

He pulls his bag over his shoulder and shoves some papers inside before walking down to the front of the classroom. Long strides for his brain to have time to work ahead, try to read Phil’s expression. "It’s alright, though”, he summarizes, shrugging. “All well. And you?"

"Fine", he says, but he doesn’t seem it. 

They do this, though. Play pretend. Dan is just a student and Phil is just a teacher trainee. They’ve never met outside of school. They’ve never grabbed coffees or snuggled up listening to music. They've never bunched up into the janitorial room with their tongues down each others' throats, Phil's hand down Dan's unzipped pants and his glasses fogging up on the tip of his nose, whispering a messy string of “I love you”s into his neck.

Dan sucks on said tongue in a thoughtful gesture. "Plans for the weekend?"

Mr. Lester furrows his brow and looks up at the ceiling as if he thinks about it. "Nothing scheduled", he admits with a shrug. He picks up and flips through a book on sociology. “And yourself?”

They have to be so fucking casual about it too. 

It’s about to be their last weekend together; not that they'll necessarily spend it together. Phil is to start a new job already next monday and maybe would like to have some time off before that, time to think; time to think his twenty-seven year old life over and then _re-think_ , re-evaluate that sort-of-kind-of boyfriend from the class he's been teaching. Dan knows it’s bad. He knows _they’re_ bad, but it’s not like he can do anything about that. Not at this point. But it's nothing you'd want on your resume as you throw yourself out in the labor market, that's for certain.

And maybe it’s true, that it’s just best to leave things as they are when they’re the best. Like how you in theory shouldn't attend funerals in order to remember the person happy and alive, not dead in a coffin. But Dan truly thinks too much, and he’s a hopeless cynic, and he really shouldn’t have a say in anything to do with love or longing or anything in between.

So instead he just shrugs. “Nothing, actually. Might just go home over the weekend.” He’s making it up as he goes. The least he can do is try to steer Phil in the right direction. Because he _has his needs_. “Since, you know. I don’t have any other plans.”

Phil nods once into his textbook. “That’s nice.”

"You don't mind, do you?"

"Course not. It's not like I thought I'd be having dinner with you."

Dan quirks an eyebrow. "Come again?”

Phil looks up. He meets Dan’s comically confused eyes. "Nothing", he says lightly. "Just a joke."

"Are you sure?"

"A _bad_ joke." He forces a smile. "I'm absolutely sure. I have a book, a great one. Not, _this_ one, er, it’s about this girl and… Well. I should maybe fit in a nap before the afternoon is over, too, and uh. Go ahead, you."

"A bad joke", Dan echoes, totally unphased. He pouts his lips as he nods, stifling an amused smile because a flustered, rambling Mr. Lester is his new favourite thing in the whole world. He sways his leg around to walk towards the door. "Okay."

The walk is deliberately slow. 

He thinks it’s a good move.

"Hey", Phil calls after him, that firm yet caring voice filling up the miles between them, and Dan turns around. Sees the uncertainty in his eyes. "Will you…”, he waves his hands in the air, casually searching the words, “go have dinner with me?"

He can’t help but release the smile he was desperately holding back. Relief washes over him just seeing the genuine hope in Phil's eyes. The simple _blueness_ of them making him fall in love all over again. "I dunno. Will I?"

Mr. Lester's smile is lopsided; a grin, even. "I’d advise you to."

Dan drops his bag to the floor. This is how it would start, and this is how it would end. Doomed to forever repeat the same routine.

He takes a step towards him, entering his space, smelling his scent and feeling his warmth, but yet it’s the sight of Phil’s fingers curling around the edge of the desk that makes him feel the most weak. 

“I think I’ll have to contact my assistant about that”, Dan mumbles absently, already far too busy fumbling with the first button of Phil’s dress shirt. “See if I have a slot free for you.”

“You’re far too kind”, Phil mumbles. 

He moves on to the second button, almost shaky with eager but going slow, painstakingly slow. Savouring the moment and saving each frame to a time capsule in the back of his mind. 

“Could spare you a friday eve in April, perhaps”, he continues, voice low, soon having unbuttoned the whole row down to the hem. “2019.”

Mr. Lester wets his lips, and Dan realises how he’s been looking at Dan’s mouth the entire time. “Hm”, he hums. “Lots to look forward to.”

Dan pushes his hands inside the now open shirt, feeling with flat palms over the milky pale skin as his shirt hangs loosely off his shoulders. He keeps his eyes on Mr. Lester’s, parting his lips as he does. He still doesn’t touch him back.

“Aren’t you going to kiss me?” Dan asks, a bit breathless already.

Phil looks up at him. He quirks an eyebrow, and Dan is so in love with him. “Oh”, he says. “I thought you were going to be the one in charge today.”

Dan smiles and shakes his head, leaning in so that he can put his lips to his neck. Phil stills below him, and Dan knows that this is when he closes his eyes, when he focuses purely on how good it feels. This is when he starts to get hard, which, in turn, always has the exact same effect on Dan.

“I would like you to fuck me over your desk”, Dan whispers to him, kissing him again, harder, right below the arch of his jawline where he knows it feels fucking incredible no matter how sensitive you happen to be. “Not to spoil the surprise, you know. But.”

“‘S fine”, Phil mumbles, hands finding Dan’s ass. “It can be arranged, right?”

“As you’ve promised.”

He pulls back and Phil's lips are immediately on his. Gentle and sweet while breathing him in. Then his hands are on his waist, spinning him around and pinning him down to sit on the desk instead as Phil stands in front of him. Dan wires his arms around his neck, totally used to the rough treatment; actually really just loving it at this point.

“Fuck yeah”, he whispers, already feeling dazed from how turned on he is, when finally Phil lifts his legs and has him shift his weight to lay across the desk. 

He leans up on his elbows to watch as Phil pulls his Converses off, dropping each with a loud thud on the floor, then moves to pull his jeans off his hips and down on the floor they go as well. He goes to slide his shirt up his stomach but Dan grabs his hand. 

“Take your own shirt off first, you hooligan”, Dan mutters, squeezing his hand. “Show you mine, you show yours. Or. Whatever.”

“I must have been mistaken”, Phil says, moving his hands to Dan’s thighs instead. “I thought _I_ was the responsible adult here.”

Phil is smiling, that gentle but triumphant smile over how he’s countering Dan and confident he’s _cornering_ him too, but Dan just rolls his eyes.

“Ugh, how about you don’t remind me, daddy.”

Dan regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth.

Because not only did he mention the unspeakable word - the one he'd heard so much in his kink-friendly porn and hoped to god he'd never let slip out in real life - but he put it in _context_ too, which somehow only made it even the filthier. 

He goes to apologize, can already feel the burn on his neck creeping for his cheeks, because this was way over the line even in his book. But, then. The look on Phil’s face. The way he froze up when he said it and the way he hitched on his breath. The way he _still isn’t breathing properly and his eyes are kind of wider_.

Oh, it’s all too good to be true.

“You okay there?” Dan asks through a sneer. He’s a power bottom. A very loud, mean power bottom. “Can’t handle the old-jokes? Too much at your age?”

Phil tries to not look phased by that; by any of it. “I’m not even old enough to be your dad”, he deadpans.

But Dan knows what’s up.

He smirks through a bite of his lip. “You’re right, daddy.”

Phil closes his eyes. He curls his fingers into Dan’s thighs and breathes out heavily through his nose. “Don’t say that word.”

When he opens his eyes again, Dan is still sneering.

“As if I’d care to stop”, he scoffs, then his voice drops to a murmur. “So what, I’m a bad boy? Are you going to _punish_ me for it?”

Thank the fucking heavens above he’s discovered what a natural he is at dirty talk. And thank the burning hells below Phil looks so ridiculously hot when he’s flustered.

“Maybe I will”, Phil spits, and it’s incredibly menacing for coming from him. And then he grabs the collar of Dan’s shirt, tugging him up into a sitting position in front of him, trapped between his thighs. “But I get the feeling you’d like that a bit too much.”

Dan gasps, staring into Phil’s eyes behind his glasses. “You’re not wrong”, he mumbles, chewing on his lip again as his fingers fumble to find Phil’s skin. Notices his jaw clench when he does. “Need that smartass knocked out of me, don’t I?”

Phil presses his lips together and shakes his head. “Shut up.”

He pulls Dan up by his collar to stand, then moves his hands to his shoulders, spinning him around, this time to have him face the desk. It’s like one single swift movement and Dan barely realises what’s happening before he’s pushed down on top of it, feet still planted on the ground. 

Fuck.

He says this aloud too, but it only earns him a smack on his ass which makes the word cut out into a cry. 

“Language”, Phil snaps and, goddamn, if that’s not the hottest thing in the world then he’s not sure he could live through what _is_.

His eyes feel glazed, shirt rumpled up. He feels fucked out already and Phil hasn’t even started on him yet. 

“Be good, baby”, he says behind him then quietly, reassuringly, as he tugs Dan’s star-littered boxers down his thighs. “I’ve got this. I’ve got you.”

Dan squirms and whines and Phil immediately grabs a hard hold of his wrists, putting them on his back. 

“ _Babe_ ”, he warns, letting go with one hand to slap his butt again, a harder whip than the first one. Dan flinches but only lets out a small cry, and he’s _so in love with him_. “Are you going to be good or not?”

“I’ll be good”, he whines, wiggling his hips to purposefully brush against Phil’s hard dick strapped back in his jeans. “Promise I’ll be good.”

Phil’s voice gets low. “So why don’t I believe you?”

He holds his hands there with his one hand as the other one moves away. Dan looks over his shoulder to see Phil loosen his tie, pull it over his head and then thoroughly tie his wrists together with it. Dan’s mouth falls open. For having been together three weeks - _together_ with physical quotation marks - he’d never tried that before, despite the subject of it having been brought up on a few occasions here and there. 

And, yet. There he was. Back tied and naked, bent over Mr. Lester’s desk. And he’d possibly never been so turned on in his life. 

“Safe word is red if you want me to stop”, Phil says softly then, sweetheart he is, but then continues in a lower voice, squeezing his ass: “And I might consider it.”

“Fucking saint, you are”, Dan scoffs, but then Phil’s fingers are reaching around him and pushing into his mouth. He instantly wraps his lips around them.

“Learn to bite your tongue, young mister”, he says, leaning over him so that his hard dick is quite perfectly hard and slid up between his ass cheeks, “or I’ll have to do it for you.”

One hand gropes his ass and squeezes hard, the other one fucks his fingers in and out of his mouth until Dan is sobbing and his eyes are watering. He makes a noise and Phil clearly hears it, but ignores it at first. When he pulls them out, slick and ready, Dan gasps and lays his head down on the cold surface of the desk. _Jesus christ_.

“You’re quite good at that”, Phil muses, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with the back of his hand. He brings his wet fingers to Dan’s entrance, massaging around it. Dan bites down on his lips and hums, squirming more beneath him and jutting his ass out for him. “You’re glad you had me to practice on, aren’t you, angel?”

He pushes a finger in before Dan has time to answer, and all he gets as a response is a long intake of breath. Phil is positively unsatisfied with that. He instantly pushes the second finger in.

“ _I said_ , aren’t you, angel?”

“Yes, daddy”, Dan chokes out. He humps the air to then push back onto his fingers. “Love your big cock. Wish I had it right now.”

“Greedy”, Phil tuts. 

He pushes in and out of him repeatedly until he can push in the final finger, and Dan curls up a bit over the desk but Phil pulls at his waist to close the distance between them.

Phil holds him down as he fucks into him with his fingers, bends down over his back to push their bodies flush together, nibbling on his neck which makes Dan’s brain fucking _explode_. He doesn’t even register half the embarrassing noises that escape him, high-strung and stuttering and far gone noncoherent mumbling about wanting his nice teacher’s big dick in him instead and whatever the fuck else he can think of.

He hears Phil tear a condom wrapper open with his teeth, not wasting excessive time away from his body contact before he eases his fingers out and quickly rolls the condom on himself. Dan turns his head to look, but Phil gets his free hand in his hair then, wrenching his head back. Dan cries out, but Phil just shushes him.

“I’ve got you, baby”, he assures him, already guiding his cock into him. He eases himself inside and it’s a stretch, it’s a new position, weird angle, but yet it’s how _good_ it feels that has them both gritting their teeth and humming as he slides inside. 

“ _Goddammit_ ”, Dan groans, curling his fists into balls. 

He clings to the feeling of his nails digging into his palms, fighting hard to stay sane. 

“Yeah”, Phil agrees, bit breathlessly. He keeps pushing forward until skin meets skin and he’s fully inside. “ _God_.”

Dan huffs something in reply, Phil’s fingers kneading his ass as he adjusts to his size.

“You’re so tight, Dan”, Phil murmurs, obvious, but then: “So good for me.”

“Good for daddy”, Dan hums in agreement, pleased with the compliments but dazed out already. He licks his lips and looks back at Phil. “Please fuck me.”

Phil has a dark look in his eyes. His hair, usually pushed up and back, hangs in his face and the look on it is all synonyms of stern. 

He grabs onto his hip, sliding out. Then he snaps his hips forward. Dan jolts and cries out, and Phil just huffs a laugh. “That’s what you want?”

“Mhm”, Dan nods, biting his lips together, eyes squeezed shut. “But. I-”

Phil pulls on his hair, yanking his face up from the table. “What was that?”

Dan’s mouth falls open and he whimpers loudly as Phil thrusts into him again. His mind is racing, thinking everything from how badly he needs Phil to put a collar on him and hold him by a leash as he fucks into him like this, to, _oh fuck, how do I finish this sentence?_

“More”, he chokes out eventually, his breathing is strained and shaky. “Need more.”

Phil lets go of his hair, sure to not have him slam it face-first onto the desk, then grabs ahold of his hips with both strong hands. He snaps his hips forward, fucking hard into him, roughly and relentlessly. Dan’s mouth falls agape, furrowed brow and he feels his thighs give out underneath him, but all his weight is laid on the desk underneath him anyway and he just melts into it.

This is convenient when Phil leans over him, clinging onto his body as he fucks him, reaching to suck and nibble at his neck. He whispers dirty things, things Dan can’t quite comprehend or try to understand. He just hears their skin slapping together, feels Phil’s heat all over him. His face feels hot from it, from the feeling of everything, the whole mind-blowing experience. 

Suddenly he stiffens, a hot feeling shooting up through him and taking over, numbing all his other senses out for a moment. “Oh- _fuck_.” He shudders, but fights hard to not move out of the place. “Right _there_.”

“Yeah?” Phil murmurs, keeping the angle. He keeps thumping at his prostate, hard and skilled and _perfectly_ , and all Dan can do is sob and mewl and whimper.

He can tell Phil is getting closer by the way he starts thrusting faster, as if that was even possible. Dan feels it himself, the warmth in his stomach; chases the feeling.

“Love you”, Phil whispers then, hot against his ear. “My beautiful boy.” He bites down on his neck. “Mine.”

“Yours”, Dan whispers back, unable to think of any own words to form. How the fuck is Phil even still able to think? “Yours. Mine.”

Phil snaps his hips faster, bending Dan in half. Dan actually comes before him, untouched, holding his breath as his brain positively _explodes_. He mewls and even _drools_ an embarrassing string of spit on the desk; not that he cares for the moment being, brains getting fucked out like it’s their last day on earth. He gets to ride it out as Phil fucks a few more sloppy times into him before he groans lowly into his neck, nuzzling his face in, hands gripping his shoulders. Dan groans with him, feeling the last few lazy thrusts at his prostate before he goes limp over him, still inside him, bodies sticky and stuck together.

They catch their breath before Dan comes down from the high and suddenly feels unbearably warm. “Oi”, he goes. 

“Hmm?” 

His heart flutters at the sound. This adorable, adorable man, making sounds like a sleepy beauty, and still succeeding at making him smile like it’s his first ever crush. “Did you consider moving?”

Phil shuffles around a bit above him. It’s a bit smothering, yet he doesn’t mind as much as he probably should. “I actually used superglue. We’ll be stuck like this for a while.”

Dan nods, understanding.

Then Phil leans back and finally they both can breathe properly. He unties his hands and Dan didn’t realise how they’d gone numb and the pins and needles feeling has him whining until he can shake it out as Phil kisses his face. 

They dress again, Dan watching Phil thoroughly button his shirt as he tugs his jeans on.

“So, that dinner date, yeah?” he casually asks.

Phil straightens his collar out. 

“Oh yeah”, he says. Casual. “8 at my place?”

Dan stares at him, offended. “Seriously?” He squints. “At least make it 7. This was a _workout_.”

“You didn’t even _do anything_!” Phil counters, high-pitched in disbelief, throwing his arms out.

“I was a good boy, was what I was”, Dan mutters. He pulls his shirt over his head, thankful for the shower waiting for him just across the yard in his dorm. “Took a lot out of me to not be disobedient.”

“I don’t think I quite punished you enough.”

“I just said I was being good!”

“Doesn’t mean you really were.”

“What do you want me to say? _Thank you for breaking my back, daddy_?”

“Well it would certainly be nice.”

“You have absolutely no right.”

“I love you.”

Dan stops. He swallows his jokingly angry retort back down. Instead a smile flickers over his face. 

“Love you, too.” He walks up and wraps his arms around him. Phil mimics his motion and Dan leans in, putting his head to his chest. “But you really need to shower before we can be seen together.”

They laugh at that, and after a while return to their separate homes to get ready.

Thing is, later on, Phil’s home kind of becomes Dan’s home too. University gets boring, the dorm room feeling bland and claustrophobic rather than the exciting opportunity for independence it originally was, and he comes to really realise there’s much better things in life. Like competing against Phil in video games (he’s bloody awful at Mario Kart, despite claiming to be playing it all the time), watching TV together at night in the sofa they saved up for together, or waking up next to him when the sun shines through the blinds just right and casts beautiful lights on his skin. 

And that’s just his version of reality.

**Author's Note:**

> isn't it nice how the second to last paragraph is a pretty spot-on representation of their actual reality as well!?!?!
> 
> anyway. I love how "such a demanding teacher" AND dan pulling an old-joke on phil in the happy wheels video happened in the span of me writing this so it became just a slight bit more relatable and not just a creepy kink thing. THANKS DADS.
> 
> I started this way over a month ago and really wanted to finish this before Phil turned 30 for some reason and I did it so!! oh, want me to repeat that? PHIL TURNING 30? yeah, no. a hoax. can't relate. I don't know her.


End file.
